


To jealousy, nothing is more frightful than laughter

by Ilyasviel



Series: Venomous lightning [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Incest, Jealousy, M/M, My Thor-Byron is back for this fic XDDDD, Pre-Thor (2011), Sibling Incest, Smut with feeeeels, Sorry Not Sorry, The fluff is strong in this one <3, Thorki is life, a more mature Thor than you are used to XD, lots of feels, young princes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 12:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15582354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyasviel/pseuds/Ilyasviel
Summary: To jealousy, nothing is more frightful than laughter - Françoise Sagan₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪Two long years of fight and muddy roads, of uncomfortable nights and exhausting days, but at last the warriors has gained the right to come back home victorious. Thor is more eager than anyone to be back to Asgard, having missed his brother so deeply he thought he has left a part of his body on the golden city when they left it. But it seems two years is a long time to spend away from your best friend, and Thor comes home to find a stranger wearing his brother's eyes...





	To jealousy, nothing is more frightful than laughter

**Author's Note:**

> The Thorki virus had got me hard this time xDDDD oh well... more like AGAIN hahaha
> 
> This one is a fluffy story about feelings, declarations of love and lots of first times :P I think it ended pretty sweet (and hot at the end XD), hope you like it! 
> 
> English is not my first language and it is unbetaed, so all the typos are mine ;) let me know if you find anything I can correct!
> 
> Now get ready for some fluff and some more of my Thor-Byron xD sorry, I can't write him stupid XDDDD

The pitter patter of the rain sings around the solitary figure sitting under a tree near the lake. The red cape over his shoulder obscures his features to the rest of the world. Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard, sits there, letting the rain soak his body as the sorrow is doing with his soul. What is wrong with him? The song of the rain helps him remember with detail everything has happened during the last years, specially the last night and what the morning training has bring upon him.

 

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The feast was as rowdy as ever, with food and mead running around the tables where the warriors sit side by side, enjoying the well-deserved celebration. They have returned recently from the frontiers of Vanaheim, from fighting a group of dark elves who have been attacking little settlements around the area to pillage and kidnap. Their adventure has kept them away from Asgard for two years, pursuing them around the dark space from planet to planet, freeing captives and fighting the captors. But at last they have been, the last strike of Thor’s thunder killing the leader and the remaining forces with a single blow. After two years of roads, ships, sleeping under the stars and battle, the amenities of Asgard are the best reward any of them can have.  But for some of them, the comfort doesn’t come just from the place, but the people.  Thor, the Prince, has missed his younger sibling madly. It has been the first campaign they have deployed him without his loyal brother beside him.  The All-Father has allowed him to take the Warrior Three and Sif, but not Loki, not this time.  Something about his brother having to travel to a different realm to perfect his control over his Seidr or something similar. Thor hasn’t been paying attention, the mere thought of being on the battlefield without Loki beside him has made the rest of the world turn off for him. But at the end, he has his orders, and with a last hug to his mother and brother, he has stepped into the Bifrost and disappeared.

 

To his surprise, those two years have made them change extremely, moving from the young boys who enjoyed making pranks to the maids to the well-seasoned warriors sitting at the table tonight. Thor has grown larger, in every aspect, taller and broader, with strong arms that carry the strength of a tempest and steady hands to command it. His hair is longer too, and Fandral enjoyed braiding it on the old warriors’ style, with little braids keeping it from his face, one braided with a lock of his mother’s hair, a memento of his home. Sif has turned into a strong and fierce woman, carrying the power of the stronger of their soldiers tenfold in the body of a maiden, beautiful and dark. Hogun has changed his combat style, deciding to favour a metal mace together with his mastery with the daggers. His hair has grown too, and he keeps it up in a bun over his head, as was customary on Vanaheim.  Volstagg has turned into a bear of a man, with a stomach almost as big as his shoulders.  He was trying to let his beard grow, but for now it only reaches the top of his collarbone, but was intimidatory enough.  Fandral has turned even more cute, in the words of the maiden that have been serving their supper for the last hours.  His blonde hair falls in soft curls around his head, and a goatee decorates his face graciously. All of them have grown taller and broader too, but no one can compare with the changes Thor has experimented during those long two years.

 

Well there was someone. Loki, Thor’s younger brother, has changed even more than them. He was taller too, but his body has changed to one designed to fight in close and quick combat, slender and flexible as a young tree. His skin was even paler than before, signaling how much time has he spent inside since their departure. His hair fall in raven silky locks around his head and shoulders, the soft waves of it tamed back with a silver band that gave him the presence of a king. The softness of his features has been erased by the time, leaving behind a sculpted pair of cheeks, a regal nose and strong brows, plump lips and the greenest eyes Thor has ever seen in an Asgardian. 

 

The long night has begun as soon as they have kneel before their King carrying the news of their victory, even knowing the almighty Odin was very aware of them. They have cleaned themselves in a proper bath for the first time in months, washing away the grime and sweat of the battles, the blood impossible to clean from their armours on the battlefield. After that, they have rejoined with their soldiers and moved to the main hall where the King has laid the feast for them. Long tables filled the space, from one side to the other, giving the soldiers the chance to bring with them whoever they wanted to share the celebration. Families, partners, even some whores, dotted the tables beside the intrepid warriors. On the main table, Odin sat with Frigga by his side, and Thor to his right, with the Warrior Three, Sif and Loki sitting beside him. 

 

Since their return, Thor hasn’t had a chance to see his brother for more than five minutes, and he has been waiting for the moment they will sit together and talk about everything that has happened in the long years apart. But to his surprise, Loki has sat between Sif and Fandral, just affording him a little smile and a nod before losing himself on Fandral’s tales. Thor pushed it aside, thinking perhaps Loki wanted to talk with him later, in a calmer venue, but when the feast continued, and the loud sound of interminable chatter diminished, Loki has kept his full attention on Fandral. Thor didn’t know if it was the mead or just the longing, but every laugh his friend extracted from his brother has made something vile stir inside him. And then he saw it, the way Loki’s eyes moved from Fandral’s eyes to his lips, the soft lopsided smile, the way he lowered his long and black eyelashes to cover the fondness on his eyes, the blush creeping into his face that Thor knew isn’t coming from the diluted sweet wine he liked to drink. No, Thor has seen this behaviour often enough to understand it. His brother was flirting with Fandral, and his friend was returning the advances if the way he leans closer and touches him more freely were indicative enough. The strange and ugly feeling keeps growing inside him, until the savour of the mead can’t rival with the vile flavour of it, making Thor growl before standing up, excusing himself for the night claiming tiredness. But he has made one last mistake before leaving the hall.  Looking over his shoulder, he has seen Fandral leaning even closer until he was close enough to whisper into Loki’s ear, saying something that has made Loki blush even harder and give out a shy laugh, nodding before letting his hand rest on Fandral’s leg. 

 

Oh, the way Thor has stormed from the hall, the sound of his boots resounding like the thunder he carried inside in the empty hallways. He can’t walk away fast enough, he can’t close and lock the door of his quarters harder enough. And the growl that escapes him once he is standing in the middle of his room?  Roaring as the worse tempest Asgard has ever heard. He can’t find the place this ugly sentiment was coming from, but he  tasted it, like a wine that has gone sour. Maybe it was just the way his brother has ignored him since his return. They have been thicks as thieves for as long as he can remember, and now… now his brother barely exchanged a few pleasantries with him, his full focus on one of his friends instead of his brother. He knows a lot of things can happen in two years, he has experienced a few life changing experiences himself, but the distance hasn’t diminished the love he has for him, and seeing how easily his younger sibling has pushed him aside made his heart bleed. What has he done to deserve this treatment? The sound of the rain falling against the window panes made him sigh. He wasn’t in the mood for those deep thoughts.  Maybe the next day, under a brighter light and less weary, everything will fall in place and Loki and him will be again as they have always been.  With that positive thought, he stripped off his clothes and fell into bed, letting the mead he has consumed so freely and the first feel of a warm and comfy bed in two years help him drift off.

 

Morning light didn’t bring peace to Thor’s mind, but at least his mood has improved, if the sun filtering through the curtains was signal enough. He has bathed, fought with his hair until he forced some kind of order on it before making a bun and getting ready for the day. A breakfast was waiting for him on the antechamber of his quarters, and he devoured it, wanting to settle the emptiness on his stomach. Once ready, he put on his training clothes and recovered Mjölnir from the spot next his bed. The strenuous effort of training always eases his mind, and so Thor hoped for it to to be the case today too. And it worked, for a while. 

 

The soldiers were more than happy having a chance to spar with the Prince, some of them even making him grin at the effort he needs to put on the training to make them yield. By the time his friends appeared on the arena, Thor’s mood has lifted, the usual smug smile plastered on his face while he gives tips here and there while showing his technique to the soldiers gathered around him. Sif made a silly joke about a real fight before charging against him with her usual battle cry, extracting a real laugh from the prince at last. The rest of his friends are there too, except Volstagg, exchanging blows between them while Thor does it with Sif. They spar for a long time, the midday sun warming them while they exchange banter and blows. And then everything has gone to Hel in a second. They have stopped the fight to refresh themselves at the fountain. To Thor’s surprise, Loki was sitting near it, back leaned against a tree with a book resting on his legs. And just like yesterday, his brother just deigned himself to exchange a curt _‘Hello, brother’_ with Thor, before focusing his attention on Fandral again. He wanted to yell at the skies. What in the void was wrong with Loki? He was about to do it, letting his dear brother know how this stupid behaviour is affecting him when he saw it. The dark bruise of a love bite on the white skin of Loki’s neck. And he can only think of someone bold enough to leave a visible mark in a Prince of Asgard. The thought of Fandral having his way with Loki made his blood boil again, the distant sound of thunder making everyone stare to the sky before moving their eyes to him. Thor sensed his body tense under the scrutiny, deciding to ignore it. He should calm down before he could do something he will regret. A bucket of water over his heated head seems to calm his dark mood a bit, and he returned to the arena without a second glance to the group still sitting under the trees’ shade.

 

Thor recovers a wooden sword from the training area and attacked with all his might one of the dummies, the harsh hits of his weapon clashing with the ones falling from the clouds.  His friends knew by experience that something is bothering him, but not even Sif can get a grasp on what that could be.  They gave him space and restart their training again some minutes later, the sound of their weapons clashing mixing with the ones of Thor against the dummy. Blow after blow, Thor’s brain stills, the raging feelings subduing to his usual battle stance, and with a last hit that broke in half the sword, he stepped away from the dummy. His friends kept training as usual, two of them attacking one while the other give instructions about the weak points they saw in one another. Thor joined them for a while, happy to spar with Sif and Hogun, but then he found himself facing Fandral, and the same vile sentiment filled him, the grip on his weapon tightened. Hogun, who was paired with Thor against Fandral, sensed the danger and tiptoed to the side, approaching Sif to talk about a way to stop it before they hurt one another. Because they saw the danger on Thor’s gaze, noticed the cracking energy of the thunder creeping from under his skin and heard the roaring of the clouds covering the bright sun slowly.  Fandral saw it too, but he wasn’t know to be a coward, a fool sure, but not a coward.  Instead of running or try to talk with his friend, he hardened his stance, the wooden weapon ready to deflect whatever Thor thrown at him. But nothing either of them have done during their long years together have prepared the swordsman to be the receiver of Thor’s fury. The Prince charged with a growl, a middle blow directed to the ribs. Fandral barely managed to stop it before the practice sword broke against his bones, but Thor didn’t give him time to recover, giving him blow after blow, the strange sentiment in his guts making him growl with every hit, enjoying the way he is forcing Fandral to move back trying to resist against his onslaught. Because with every hit the memories of the way Loki has looked at him yesterday, how they have touch and flirted, and specially the mark he has left on his brother, kept going back to the front of his mind, blinding him to the world and leaving him with that ugly feel he hasn’t had a name for, and a thirst for blood.

 

When Thor wins, he did it with a crack. His wooden sword splitting in half the one Fandral has been using and hitting his shoulder hard enough to make him yell. Loki’s voice enters his mind at last, calling their names, not just Thor but Fandral’s too, and it stopped him before he landed a second blow in the fallen man. The Prince growled to the skies when the bloodlust dissipates from his eyes and he looked down to see Fandral, one of his best friends and comrade-in-arms, wounded by his hand. “Norns help me…” He broke the weapon in half against his leg, before facing Fandral with his head lowered to the ground, avoiding to look him into the eye, “Damned be the weapon that draws the blood of a friend. Sorry, Fandral.” Turning to face Sif, he walked to her, the mask his father has taught him to use when in distress perfectly in place, “Take him to the Healing Chambers.” When she nodded, her dark eyes open wide in surprise, he recovered Mjölnir from the fountain and used it to leave the arena flying high to the mountains, not giving any of them the chance to stop him.  The first drops of rain has begun to fall the moment he has left the ground.

 

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Thor was still trying to understand what has happened since they returned yesterday. His sour mood was playing havoc with Asgard’s meteorology: The rain is falling incessantly since he has left the training area, and he knows it will continue until he takes hold of his feelings and get a grip of himself. But for that he first need to understand the source of his discomfort.He keeps replaying again and again the moment they have stepped from the Bifrost, the meeting with his father, the feast… everything. And can’t find a single act on his part that can be the reason Loki was avoiding him. About Fandral, well, he has always been a bit overprotective of his brother, but this was overreacted even for him and his easily boiling blood. Just thinking in the way they have looked to one another during the feast and the marks he has left upon Loki’s body makes something dark stir inside him. A sense of ownership he must not have with his brother. He is a man of age and is free to choose his partners in whatever way he wants, but something inside Thor’s brain is screaming _‘MINE!’_ and he can’t understand it. He is his little brother, the one who has been there with him since he can remember, the other half of all his victories, the companion in all his mischiefs, the shoulder to cry for all his pain. And now a stranger is wearing his brother’s eyes, and Thor just wants to let the tears flow and mix with the rain soaking him. When did this happen? When has he lost him?

 

The roaring sound of the thunders breaching the darkness of the clouds covers the song of the rain for a moment, but not even the scream of the skies can silence the thoughts on Thor’s brain, or ease the constricting feeling on his chest. He has come home with his heart full of joy, relishing the short lived  taste of victory, ready to share them with his brother and fill the silence of their nights with the stories of his battles.  Instead of that, he has found just coldness.  A silent barrier his brother has erected between them and he can’t find a reason for it or a way to breach it. At last the tears that have been waiting to be free spill from the closed eyes, the salty drops mixing with the ones his pain is making fall from the sky. 

 

So lost he was on his own mind that he didn’t hear the light steps disturbing the mud around him, the unmistakable sound of someone walking directly to him under the heavy rain. The visitor stops mere feet away from the drenched form of Thor. “Brother.”

 

Thor’s heart jumps inside his chest, he must be hearing things… but when he raises his soaked face, he finds Loki standing beside him, arms crossed and an unreadable frown on his face, half of it covered in wet locks of raven hair. He fights hard to steady his breath and don’t give away his inner turmoil before answering, “Loki?”

 

“Who else will risk their necks outside the palace under this stupid storm you have conjured, brother?” The mock can be heard on Loki’s voice as clear as the thunder above their heads. 

 

“I didn’t--”

 

Loki frees one of his hands to pull back his hair from his face, rolling his eyes at his brother, “Come on, Thor. You are sad. You know you can’t lie to me. I’m the master liar here, remember? Besides, you have never been subtle in that aspect.” He shrugs while extending a hand and letting the raindrops fall into the palm, a soft smile growing on his face. “You must be happy and celebrating and instead here you are, mopping under a tree and flooding Asgard with your manly tears.”

 

‘And who is the one to fault?’ Thor didn’t voice that thought aloud, just hiding his face again between his arms, “I’m not sad. Just leave me alone as you have been doing so nicely the last day.  Go back to Fandral and let me in peace.”

 

The younger man has the audacity to chuckle, making Thor’s fists close, arms hugging his knees even tighter, “See? Subtlety it has never been your fortitude, brother mine.”

 

An even louder thunder rumbles in the sky, making Loki jump slightly before taking a deep breath and sitting beside Thor on the muddy ground. “Brother, if you have come here just to mock me, please, take your leave and let me return to my solitude.”

 

“Not a chance, Thor. What’s the matter? What’s troubling that simple mind of yours?”

 

Thor was on his feet before the last word leaves his brother’s mouth, drenched hair plastered against his face and the sad frown exchanged for an angry one, “Enough, Loki. I’m not in the mood for your jokes.”

 

Sheets of water pour from the sky, with the teltalle of Thor’s rage shining between the clouds. Loki just stares at the imposing figure of his brother, even soaked and dirty, he looks as regal and beautiful as ever, and Loki curses the Gods now more than ever. “It hurts, isn’t?”

 

“What?”

 

“ Being the side dish you can put aside when the main course is more appealing.”

 

The words only make the thunder roar even higher in the sky, Thor’s hands trembling at his sides, “Whatever game you are playing, brother, I don’t want to be a part of it.”

 

Loki stands slowly from the ground, stepping closer to his brother but keeping his distance, “Don’t worry. You took yourself off from my games two years ago when you marched to war without me. Now is my turn to step aside.”

 

Wind that howls like savage wolfes the storm, making their capes make a strange sound while flipping in the air, the water making everything sound muffled around them, “What do you mean? It wasn’t my decision! I asked for you to come with me, damn, I asked for you in every damn letter I wrote Father during those two long years!”

 

The words seem to startle Loki, who gasp before controlling himself and returning to a stern face, “Sure thing… Tell me, brother, when our father has denied something to you,the Crown Prince and the golden boy of Asgard?”

 

“By the Norns, Loki. I’m telling you right now. But you know what? I didn’t survive those two years wishing to have you beside me to come home to this--” Thor sighs, lowering his face, “stranger who didn’t wants to even hear me out.”

 

One of the first abilities Loki has mastered over the years has been reading his brother, and now, as always, his brother is telling him the truth, he can’t deny it, but it hurts even more.  “And why have I spent the last two years travelling alone from school to school if you have asked for me?”

 

“You must ask the All-Father, Loki, because I do not have the answer.  I can only say what I know, that I will have offered my left hand to have you beside me those long months.”

 

_'Another cross to add to the long list of wrongs my father has done to me over the years.'_ Loki takes a deep breath before closing the distance to his brother and losing his words on the way. Thor stands still and with surprised eyes. The rain keeps falling around them, but the roar of the sky signals how the situation is affecting the God of Thunder. Loki keeps moving closer and closer, until he is invading Thor’s space, hand resting on the soaked tunic and sensing the tremor under his fingers. “Look me in the eye and tell me you have missed me, Thor.”

 

Strong hands capture the one resting on Thor’s chest, water dripping between the fingers, “I missed you every second from every minute from every hour from every day. I missed our chats, your hugs, our silences, your soothing presence, your withy tongue, your quick mind. I missed you, I missed you in fact, a little too much, maybe too often and more every passing day. To say I missed you is clearly an understatement.” Loki leans his forehead on Thor’s shoulder, hiding his face from his brother, fingers tightening around the ones grabbing his hand. The words drip sincerity as their bodies drip raindrops, and for some heartbeats he lets himself soak in the warmth the idea of his brother missing him so deeply brings to him. Thor sighs again, freeing one of his hands to force Loki to look at him, rough fingers touching his chin with tenderness and moving his face until they can lock their eyes, “You believe I can cast you aside so easily? Brother, I carry you everywhere I go, in my heart and my mind, even in the way my eyes see the world. Hel, Loki, I even made a list of places I want to take you when I can! I threw myself into battle to keep me distracted from how much I missed you, how my body felt like something was amiss, a blind spot on my guard where you usually are, watching my back and keeping me alive, not only with your skills but with your mind.”

 

“By the Norns!  I've been the oaf this time, right?  I let my own doubts to paint you in a colour you didn't deserve.

 

The fingers on Loki’s face keep tracing soft circles on the well defined cheekbones, “Don't. It is not your fault, brother. They have punished us for two years, me with your absence, you with a forced solitude that brought those thoughts to your mind.”

 

A soft chuckle escapes Loki, who leans even more into the warm touch of his brother, the rain changing to a soft drizzle. “Why, brother mine, have you matured out of my watch?”

 

“Perhaps.” The fingers slide down, reaching the love bite on his neck and pressing it, “But it seems I'm not the only one.”

 

Loki blushes at the words but more with the touch, keeping his eyes locked on the blue gaze of his brother, a thunder lightning the sky above them, “Jealous? You have sported some of them yourself more than once, brother.” A little shudder runs up and down Thor’s body, strong enough to be noticeable for Loki, whose brows move up in surprise, not at the reaction itself, but to the word that make it appear. Thor was jealous, but of whom? Maybe he has developed feelings for the dashing swordsman during the campaign? “If I had known you will be this restless about a bit of flirting with Fandral, I would have stayed away from him, brother. It was just a game for me, a way for letting you know I was aware of your return and was ignoring you on purpose. But I must admit this man is a word artist. I'll stay away from him if this is what you want, brother.” Loki takes a deep breath, the next words a soft whisper fighting with the rain to be heard, “I will not steal him from you.”

 

Pain can be hear behind every word, making Thor feel awful about the full conversation, the sky roaring his feelings over their heads, “No! That's not-- Loki…” The hand on his neck moves to his usual spot on Loki’s nape, fingers entangling with the soaked hair, “Brother--” Their foreheads touch and Thor finds himself lost in the green sea of Loki’s eyes. Too many words are fighting to be free form the cage of his brain, but he keeps them at bay by will force alone, searching for the ones that will not show his real cards to his brother, “I'm not your owner nor your protector, Loki. You can take to bed whoever you want.”

 

Loki has used the little discourse to move closer to his brother, flattening their chest and hugging him hard, keeping him in place, knowing his next words can make his brother try to escape. “Then explain me your little show on the training area, brother mine.”

 

Thor tries to pull back from his brother’s grasp, to no avail. With a sigh, he relents, taking a deep breath to calm his brain and find the correct words to say. After a few seconds, he goes for the honor path, knowing he can't lie to Loki, not even in that. “He marked you, Loki. He marked you in a place where everyone can see it, marked you as his.”

 

The way Loki laughs in his brother’s arms is the one he saves just for Thor, the kind of giggle he only let his brother see, and only in the darkest hour of the day when they are high in spirits or after a long night of partying. “Oh my dear brother…” Loki tightens the arms around his brother’s waist, the rain falling around them again, “I asked him to do it, because I wanted for my desired one to be jealous.”

 

Another shudder, but this time goes with a little pull on Loki’s hair, who just smirks at his brother with a darkness showing on his green haze that Thor has never seen before. “You have a suitor then. I'm sorry for being a stubborn big brother, Loki. I'll keep my hands to myself. May I know the name of the one you crave for their attention?” The smug way Loki smiles at Thor talks about mischief but it is so alluring that he didn't care, letting one grow on his own lip.

 

Loki slides down his arms and steps back, keeping his eyes on his brother’s face, smirk still in place, “Nay, you will need to guess it, my dear.”

 

“You like making me suffer a tad too much, Loki. I'm not as good as you in those little games and you know it.”

 

Still grinning, Loki moves back to the tree, hand raising while he walks backward to it. The green light of his Seidr shine on his fingers while he commands the rain to avoid the little spot under the leaves, using the same magic to dry the terrain and his clothes as much as he can. He sits then, with his back resting on the wooden natural wall behind him and using his fingers to comb the wet locks of his hair. “Come here, brother mine, I can give you some hints until you can find the name for yourself, but I will only give you five, after that only time will show you the true.”

 

Thor, who has been enraptured with the display of magic from his brother, tries to keep a stern face while his brother work. He left Asgard before his powers have been properly trained, and even being gifted from a young age, there are lots of things their mother can't teach him. This trick seems to be part of the list he has learnt on his absence. When Loki pats the now dry spot beside him, the words finally enter Thor’s brain, making him sigh under the rain. “You don't have to do it, brother. We used to share everything, but the long months apart can change it and I will understand if you want to keep your secrets for me.”

 

“You are no fun, brother.  Come on, of course I want to tell you, but I prefer to make you work for it.  Now come here and let me dry you before you catch a cold and get mother mad.”

 

The soft words work its magic as they always do, making Thor give him a little smile before taking the few steps separating him from his brother. Inside the little bubble created with Loki’s magic the temperature is warmer, making the soaked body of Thor grateful for it after the long time he has spent under the cold water. His body falls heavily to the ground beside Loki, and a second later the deep forest’s scented magic of his brother surrounds him. Warm caresses to his full body evaporate the water from his skin and clothes, leaving only the one dripping from his hair in place. Something stirs inside Thor's chest when he senses the powers of his brother surrounding him, the vibration of it under his skin, the green shine around his long fingers while he works his magic. And this time he has a name for it, one that brings shame to his heart and a deep blush to his face: Lust. Pure and undeterred desire, the kind he has never had before for a man, having the short experience he has with the fair sex, and one he surely must not have for his brother. But he pushes it down and down, swallowing it like one of the concoctions the women of the healing houses forced him to take when he was bitten by a snake on his younger days, the sentiment tasting just as bitter. Loki’s broad smile makes him relax a bit, even if not so much thanks to his treacherous body, and he forces himself to let his shoulder rest against his brother, trying to feign easiness.

 

Loki has finished with his hair, letting the long locks rest over one shoulder dripping tiny droplets of water over his tunic. His grin broadens when he looks at his brother, who is fighting very hard to not stare at him, and Loki seems to not be buying it. “Let me help you with that crazy mane while we talk. Lay down, please?” He pats his leg while he gives Thor the best puppy eyes he has ever seen on his brother’s face, and with a nervous chuckle, he yields to his command.  Lying on his back, he rests his head on the firm thigh, the posture forcing him to look directly into Loki’s face while he hovers over him, his long fingers already working on the knots securing the few braids that had survived the night of sleep and the training.  “I like the long hair, by the way.  It suits you.”

 

The blush on Thor’s face deepens, and he tries to fix his eyes on the moving leaves over his head, the soft smile and the way he is gazing at him is making his insides twitch and he knows he will be unable to talk if he lose himself on his green eyes. “Thanks. Yours is longer too.”

 

“How observant of you, brother.” Loki accompanies the words with a tug to the braid in his hand, making Thor return his eyes to him to find him sporting a lopsided grin.  “But you will need to learn how to take care of it by yourself.”  His fingers have finished freeing every braid on Thor’s hair and is working them through the soft wet locks, undoing the knots while talking. “I hope you didn't expect to have Fandral with you every morning to comb your hair. Yeah, we talked about you yesterday, don’t look at me like that.” 

 

The stupid thought of having Loki braiding his hair every morning enters his brain, and in his mind he is seeing him wearing a linen tunic and sitting on Thor’s bed, with his hair falling around his face and shoulders and the morning light shining around him. Thor has to close his eyes, the face hovering over him making his heart go wild thanks to the images his brain is conjuring. “I tried, but Fandral didn't want to teach me and Sif wasn't in the mood to let me practice on her hair.”

 

Long fingers scratches his scalp, making Thor almost purr and Loki’s smile just grows on his face, “Do not worry, I can help you.” The same scent of forests surrounds him while the warm of his Seidr flowing from his fingers.

 

Thor notices the invisible touch of his magic braiding his hair. “Cheater.” But Thor is beaming at his brother with half-lidded eyes, “I hope you know how to do it in more traditional ways or I will have to ask Fandral for advice, anyway.”

 

Another tug on one of the finished braids while Loki puts the leather cords around it is his answer, followed by a wink, “I hope you will not need his services from now on, dear brother. But where were we? Ah yes, talking about my paramour. Let's see…” The same pang of jealousy stirs inside Thor again, but he just hums at Loki words, waiting for him to continue. “He is a warrior, one of the bests of Asgard, praised by the royalty and the common people alike.” In Thor’s mind, he begins to paint the image of his nemesis. “His hair shines under the sun like a field of wheat in summer, golden waves I want to bury my fingers inside for hours.” The image of the warrior forms more clearly on Thor's mind, and it looks more like Fandral every passing second. “He has a kind heart, always ready to say a warm word or offer a strong arm to lean.” The furrow on Thor’s brows keep growing, imagining his best friend as his brother’s paramour and feeling a pang of pain at the thought of his beautiful and treasured brother in the arms of another man. “He decided to let his beard grow a few years ago and still needs time to master it, but I'm sure he will look ravishing once he does it.” Thor pictures the well trimmed goatee Fandral likes to maintain even in the middle of a battlefield and the picture turns blurry for him. Who can be that perfect stranger? “Have you guessed already?”

 

“No. Seems I'm the oaf you like to call me now and then.  For a moment I was sure it was Fandral, but the last tip left me clueless again.”

 

Loki chuckles, following the line of Thor’s beard, “Do not sell yourself so poorly, brother. I'm being very vague on purpose. Ok, last one, let's see if it makes ring the bell in your brain.” Thor has lost the ability to breathe when those long and warm fingers had touched his face. “I know him for what looks like ages. He is part of me as much as my Seidr, and even after being deprived of his company for the longest years of my short life, now I have him back, but I'm an idiot who pushes away the people who care for me the most, didn't I?”

 

The words enter slowly into Thor’s brain, changing the deep frown from a surprised one. It is not possible his brother is saying what he thinks, right? Not wanting to be the first to accept it aloud, knowing his brother is the God of Mischief and fearing for a prank, he tries to turn around the words, “That you do, my dear brother, but luckily for you it never works for long.” 

 

“And I'm grateful to all the Gods out there for it, brother. Now tell me, do you think my plan to make my desired one jealous will work?” Thor is about to answer when Loki’s finger silences him touching his lips, “Or better, do you think he will admit it? Because I believe I've already witnessed a show of jealousy which ended with Fandral on the healing houses.”

 

“Loki--”

 

A long sigh preludes the next words of a visibly shaken Loki, “Can you simply admit it, you oaf?” Loki’s finger has left Thor’s lips, hand falling to his own leg while his head fall back against the tree, “Don't let me be the only one with a twisted heart.”

 

The pleading tone and the way Loki’s body has gone tense while talking were the only signs Thor needs to know is brother is being sincere. But how is this possible?  They are brothers, raised hand by hand almost as twins, as different as day and night but part of something perfect when they are together.  Every thought Thor tries to conjure to push those ideas from his mind are surpassed by the warm feeling growing from his chest. Instead of answering, Thor raises his hand to cup Loki’s face, forcing him to look down into his blue eyes. “You are not alone, brother, but I don't think it will be wise for us to act upon those feelings.”

 

“Says the one who almost breaks his best friend’s shoulder because I flirted with him and let him kiss and mark me. If we will not act upon them you will need at least to learn how to ignore them, like I've been doing it since you decided to enjoy the maidens’ company.” He pulls his face away from Thor’s hand, leaning on the tree again and letting his eyes get lost in the distant landscape, the one suffering the most for Thor’s inner turmoil.

 

Just thinking on Loki searching for warm in another arms makes Thor’s blood boil, the ugly sentiment he has felt when he has seen his brother flirt with Fandral and then seeing the result wrote on Loki’s skin… He knows he can never ignore it now that he has a name for it, now that his heart is screaming at him. “I know. And it didn't make it any easier. Just thinking about it is painful.”

 

“Welcome to my world, golden prince.”

 

That single word seems to bring some light to Thor’s brain. They are the princes of Asgard, the heir of the throne.  And royalty can do what they want, or better, what they need to be happy, even if it goes against their parents wishes, right?  Damn, they are gods among gods! If Frey and Freyja can do it why they will be less? The way his mind is buying the idea so easily and so quickly shows Thor how much he desires for it to be true, and after the long months of craving something he didn't know he needed and the awful moments when he has discovered his true feelings, he has never been so sure about something than what he wants to do next. He pushes himself up, siting and hearing Loki sigh as soon as Thor leaves his leg, gaze turning on the opposite direction of his brother. After kneeling beside him, Thor forces his brother to face him again, both hands cupping his face, “Loki, my dear and lovely brother.  You know I love you, more than anyone in this world or any other.  You have been my other half for as long as I can remember, and now I want to be one with you, even if it goes against everything they have taught us.”

 

The sea-green eyes are shiny from unshed tears, Loki looking more fragile than Thor has ever seen him, and then his words shows him how much of his heart is he opening for him, “Are you serious about that? Don't play with me, please. I dreamed about it for too long to turn it into a prank or a fleeting thing.”

 

“As wrong as it can be on the eyes of the rest of the world, I will gladly take your hand and leap over that cliff, brother.  Besides, we are fucking royalty, is not like we can’t do as we please, right?” He has moved closer and closer to Loki with every word, his body singing happily when his brother's breath caressed his face, until he nuzzles Loki's nose with the last word, a lopsided grin plastered on his face.

 

What Thor didn't expect was for Loki to thrown himself at him, making them fall soundly to the ground, pinning Thor against it while his eyes, turned darker, study his face with an intensity he has never seen on his younger sibling. “Thor, I hope you mean what you said, very literally in fact.” The way Thor's breathing quickens gives Loki all the answer he needs and he grins to his brother, “Now give us a kiss, my prince.”

 

“With pleasure, my liege.” Neither of them close their eyes while Thor closes the distance, their lips barely touching in a soft kiss. A twin hum of contentment leaves their throats, and Thor leans back, head resting on the ground while his surprised eyes follow every move of Loki. His brother's lips are half open, tongue slipping outside to follow his lower lip, like pursuing the flavour of Thor's kiss, and the fair prince of Asgard can't fight against the craving that has been growing in him. With a swift move, he rolls them until he is the one pinning the other, his hands resting on each side of Loki's head. “You will be the death of me, my dear brother.”

 

“Only if you didn't come down here and kiss me as if you mean it, brother mine.”

 

Thor didn't need to be told twice to yield to his brother's will. This time, when they lock their lips, is not a soft peck, it is a full intended kiss, with their heads tilting to give the other better access. Loki's soft lips searching something in Thor's mouth, kissing first his full mouth, then following the curve of his lower lip until he sucks it in, making Thor moans at the feel and making Loki giggle. But Thor will not be the loser of this game, two can play to win, right? As soon as Loki frees his lip, Thor lets his tongue slips between them, using the tip o trace the plump lips of his brother. When the savour of Loki reaches him, Thor moans again, the sound mixed with the one he elicits on the man under his care. A smirk appears on Thor’s lips, believing he has won this round, until the wet tongue of Loki finds his midair. The moment they touch, the  taste of the other filling their senses, every thought of competition is forgotten. They are both winners, of the greatest prize the Gods has to offer.  Wanting more, Thor leans lower, until he is resting on an elbow, mouth pressed firmly against Loki’s. His brother uses the few seconds they spend repositioning to slid his hands under Thor's tunic, making the other gasp when the cold hands touch his heated skin. 

 

Loki didn't waste time to slid his tongue inside Thor's mouth, drinking his moan and mixing it with his own. He has never  tasted something more delightful than Thor's mouth, finding himself addict to it after a few heartbeats. And the hotness of his skin under his fingertips, the way his breath got caught when he applies a little pressure with his nails… Everything is making Loki's brain go blank, his body taking control. Over his head, a roaring thunder echoes, but not a single drop of rain is falling from the blue sky, showing him how much it is affecting Thor. Loki feels it reverberating inside his body, as if the energy that makes the sky scream flowed from his brother to him, and he senses his own Seidr reacting, the vibration on his fingers making Thor growl into the kiss, deepening it, his tongue trying to reach the back of it, following the line of his teeth and the soft curve of his palate. Loki returns the gesture by capturing Thor’s tongue with his own and his teeth while he pulls away, sucking at it greedily before letting it slip between his reddened lips. 

 

Thor is the first to recover his breath enough to talk. His free hand cups Loki’s face, thumb caressing the chin until he is following the curve of the plump lip, “By the Norns, Loki. The  taste of you…” He closes the distance again, just enough to lick his lips and hum, “Only Freyja’s wine can compare to it.  But you are better, more sweet, more addictive.  Why is this so perfect?”

 

“I do not know, and truly, I do not care. I only know being with you feels perfect.  Our love has been nurturing for years, no one will love the other as we do.”

 

“That, my dear brother, is the biggest truth you ever said.” Thor closes the distance again, this time with more intent, locking their lips in a bruising kiss. Their tongues fight for dominance for some seconds before Loki’s wins, sinking inside Thor’s mouth and drinking the sweet sounds as if they were the wine he has been talking about. When they break to catch their breath, Thor is beaming at Loki, his eyes shining with a mischief his brother has never seen outside the battlefield. “And now that I have had a bite of you, I need to eat you whole, brother mine.”

 

The smirk on Loki’s face is a mirror of the one of his brother, “Be my guest, then.” They kiss again, Loki’s fingers buried in the long locks of Thor’s hair, keeping him close. The usually stoic sorcerer let him go with a little yelp when his brother rolls them, dragging Loki until he is the one on top one more time. Once he understood what has happened, Loki grins into the kiss, pushing himself away until he is sitting on Thor’s hips, both hands resting of the strong chest of his brother. The thunderer looks astonished as his younger brother sits back, wiggling his hips against him, with the sun framing him, the golden light of it giving his skin a rose tint and making his raven locks shine. For several seconds, Thor just stares in awe at the man over him, the reddened lips he has worked so hard to create, the blush covering his cheeks and neck, the few strands of hair out of place thanks to his questing fingers. He was a sight to behold, and for once, his quick mind stops working, just letting the image sink, trying to store it securely in a private corner of his memories. Loki seems to do the same, eyes flashing from the bright eyes of his brother to the red lips he wants to revel in again, to the strong muscles showing under the open tunic. The hands resting on Thor’s pecs grab tighter when the younger good use them for support while he lowers himself closer to his brother, his soft and half damp hair falling on one side and shielding Thor from the sunlight. 

 

The ethereal light created by the filtered rays of sun through the silky locks gives Loki an even more appealing beauty, and Thor can’t fight it, rising a hand to cup the beloved face, “The dwarves must have forged you while I was away, brother. You have grown too perfect to be real.”

 

Loki rolls his eyes, but the way his lips twist up and he leans closer to the warm hand makes his intentions clearer than his words, “And you have turned too sappy while I was alone. But no, brother. I have always been this perfect, but your eyes were settled elsewhere, not that I can fault you. The beauty of Freyja or the shine of Brisingamen can distract even me. Now I’m here and your eyes are finally seeing me, what are you planning to do with me?”

 

“Several ideas pop up on my brain, dear brother, but some of them require of more time and a comfier place to lay.”

 

Beaming even more, Loki turns his face to kiss the palm of Thor’s hand before nipping at it, “I can bring us back home whenever you want, and if you ask it nicely, I can even lose our clothes on our way there.”

 

A growl escapes Thor’s throat when he feels the scratch of his brother’s teeth on his skin, wanting suddenly to sense it everywhere, “The advantages of be seduced by a sorcerer, huh?  But I want to do something else before we go back to the palace.” 

 

“Consider me intrigued, brother.” The teeth are back, following the curve of his palm until he is nipping at the thumb, tongue darting shily to  taste the skin under his care.

 

The same hand that has been suffering Loki’s slow torture moves to the back of his head, pulling him down while his brother keeps his distance resting both elbows on Thor’s chest. “I’m sure I’m the most intrigued of us, being you the first man I laid my hands on.” When Loki gasp in surprise at his brother’s confession, Thor uses the distraction to pull him closer, his arms sliding to the ground. Now they are face to face, breaths mixing between them, “And if I have my way, you will be my only.” A shudder runs up and down Loki’s spine thanks to those words he has been dreaming to hear for years. Thor plants a sweet kiss on his lips, before moving to the side and painting a line of butterfly kisses on Loki’s jaw until he reaches the soft skin of his neck, nose nuzzling with the lobe of his ear, “But first I need to put my mind at ease.” A heartbeat later, his hot mouth is surrounding the skin reddened by the dashing swordsman, sucking at it viciously and letting his teeth sink on it to the brink of pain, making a low moan escape Loki’s control. Thor keeps him pinned against him with both hands while he sucks and nips at the already punished skin, Loki gasping and trying to keep the sounds under control, their hips grinding in slow circles, their bodies reacting to the desired contact. With a last hard bite to the reddened neck, Thor laps at it to ease the pain before loosening the grip on his brother and letting his head fall back to the ground, “There. Now I will not want to kill Fandral every time I lay my eyes on you, even if now the sight will bring a different kind of thoughts to my mind.”

 

Loki is still trying to catch his breath after his brother’s assault, but his mischievous tongue is always quicker than his brain, “And those thoughts can be related to us, some solitude and fewer clothes?”

 

Thor has to laugh to his brother’s words, “Absolutely.”

 

The green glow of Loki’s magic surrounds him, and Thor can sense it tickling his full body with his power, raising them from the ground a couple of inches, “Call for your hammer, brother mine, I plan to take you for a ride.”

 

For the first time in his life, Thor pictures himself doing exactly that, riding his brother with the abandon maidens have done to him in the past, and he growls, extending a hand to call Mjolnir. When the weapon is secured in his strong fingers, Thor uses his free hand to grab Loki’s ass for the first time, pushing him against his hardened member and enjoying the feel of his brother’s hardness on his thigh, “I hope you are planning to fulfil those words, my dear brother.”

 

“My my, Thor Odinson. Are you offering yourself to me so plainly?” Power flows from Loki like the water has been pouring from the sky minutes ago, with a naturalness that will startle a lesser man, but Thor, after so many years beside him, has grown accustomed to them, to the vibration and the special scent that surrounds him when he calls for the magic energies. His own power vibrates within him as it always does when Loki unleashes his Seidr as if the thunder that lives in Thor’s heart wanted to dance with the green flames of Loki’s powers. Then something he has never sensed occurred. Loki’s energies flow inside him, mingling with his own blood, his hands reaching to hug his brother while they float in mid-air. “Never in my wildest dreams I had you like this, brother.”

 

Chuckling softly, Thor hugs him back before planting a sweet kiss on Loki’s temple, “Reality can be sweeter than the dreamland, Loki. Besides, is not like I’m being totally unselfish here. I want you to show me how to take care of you later, because I plan to do it, inch by inch, erasing the touch and the memories of any lover who has laid hands on you before me.”

 

“Not a bad plan, brother mine.” The vibration of the Seidr intensifies, making Thor close his eyes for a moment to enjoy it in his core. When he opens them a heartbeat later, the filtered light of the sun through curtains greet him, and seconds later the soft silk of Loki’s sheets surrounds him when they fall to the bed. “I will show you a new world, Thor Odinson.”

 

Thor pushes himself to a sitting position, dragging Loki with him, who squeals before giggling and wrapping his slender arms around Thor’s shoulders, “You will show me a lot of things, my dear brother, but not a new world.” He throws Mjolnir unceremoniously over the side of the bed, knowing, or wishing, it will fall on one of the tight rugs Loki cherished to have everywhere. When the soft thud of the hammer hitting it reaches them, Thor uses both arms to secure Loki in his arms, kissing his cheek with tenderness, “You will show me a new way to home.”

 

A chuckle from Loki makes Thor push him away enough to lock their gazes, finding him with a lopsided grin but shiny eyes, “Two years apart and you have matured more than in the past century. Don’t let Father hear you talking like that or he will send you away without me more often.”

 

“Do not freet about it, I’m only sappy when I’m about to being ravished by my younger brother. I don’t believe it will be a usual situation around our parents.” When Loki giggles again, Thor joins him before hitting his arm playfully, “Do not even think about it, you, mischievous thing.”

 

The green light glow again on Thor’s back, and the next second his tunic has disappeared, “But why, my dear brother? I dreamed of you taking me in the throne, with our shouts of pleasure echoing inside the same room our father uses to impart his divine justice...”

 

“Fuck! Loki--” Thor moves quick as the thunder he conjures, pinning Loki into the soft mattress with his full body, “You will be the death of me for sure.”

 

The God of Mischief is grinning at him, his darkened green eyes focused in the way the blue orbs of Thor disappear thanks to the way his pupils are growing with his passion. “I will not endanger your life  willingly, my love.  But I had so many years to dream of all the wicked ways we can enjoy one another.”

 

“Show me.” 

 

The breathless way the words leave Thor’s mouth makes Loki lose his patience.  He has waited for this for what looked like ages, and now he has the chance to have it and he can’t wait any longer.  With a twist of his wrist, all their clothes disappear. Two twins moan escape the brothers’ mouths as soon as their skins contact at last. One hot as the sun, the other silky and cold like the foam of a waterfall. One tanned by the sun of hundred battles and days outdoor, the other milky pale like the secluded pearl he is. With Thor still on top, Loki has the freedom to let his hands roam over the expanse of his upper body. His long fingers, more calloused than anyone who sees him spend his time reading can expect, trace the strong lines of muscles of his brother’s chest. Pectorals tensed by the posture still twitch at the touch, heartbeat quickening under his fingertips.  Flattening his hands against the strong body over him, Loki pushes Thor back, forcing him to kneel back. Loki chases him up, the same hands finding its way to his brother’s back, lips following the paths painted by his fingers seconds ago. The little gasps leaving Thor’s throat makes Loki smirk against the heated skin. But soon those chaste kisses are not enough for neither of them, and the trickster lets his tongue dart between his lips, tasting, at last, the coveted skin. And not even Loki, the silver-tongued God of Mischief can’t control the loud moan the  taste evokes in him. He pulls him closer with the hands he still has roaming on his back, opening his mouth to catch more of him, tongue flattening against the hard muscles, feeling the heart dancing under the skin. Thor’s fingers find a new home on Loki’s long hair, keeping him in place while a whimper that sounds like his brother’s name escapes his lips. Long nails scratch Thor’s back when Loki lets his hands slide down it, mouth already marking the skin over his brother’s heart. The way Thor arches his body under Loki’s treatment, together with the sweet sounds he is creating only makes Loki wants to do more, to do everything he has dreamed about for so long. A series of soft pokes on his abdomen makes him release his mouth to glance down, just to find the hardened member of his brother moving at his own will, searching for some friction while the hips twitch with every inch the nails goes down. His own jumping against his thighs, desire pooling on his stomach like a good meal, spreading over his limbs as the warm of Thor’s body paints his cold skin with pinker tones. 

 

A pull on his hair makes Loki turns up his face again, only to find Thor looking at him with a half open mouth, eyes dark as the deep see around the Bifrost bridge. When he has his attention, the fingers scratch softly the nape of Loki’s head, making him lean into the touch like the spoiled cat he is. Thor smiles at the display, “Brother, this is not the moment for a threat, but if you don’t stop the teasing soon, I will tie you up and take from you what you have promised.”

 

The mischievous smirk is back on Loki’s face, “Restrains, huh? I like them. In fact…” One of his hands leaves the lower back where they have been playing with the dimples of Thor’s back, the light of his Seidr making Thor try to catch a glimpse of his fingers before he yelps when invisible strings tie up his wrist together at his back, “I like the way you think, brother mine.” Thor growls whilst he fights with the magic restrains, while Loki wiggles himself from under his legs, kneeling in front of him with a smug lopsided grin, “My dear Thor, I said I will show you a new world. Do you trust me?”

 

“To the doors of Valhalla and back.”

 

Loki plants a soft peck on his lips before crawling to his back, hugging him from behind, his tied hands caged between them, fingers twitching with the craving to touch when Thor feels the body of his brother so close and so far at the same time. “Let's hope I never give you reasons to stop having that blind faith in me. Now lay down and let me take care of you.” Before Thor can answer him with harsh words, Loki pushes him down, stopping the fall with magic and lowering him softly on the bed positioning a pillow below his chest and shoulder. The show he is offering to Loki is the best he has ever seen: the golden prince of Asgard, the better warrior the army has had since Odin hanged the sword, the most valiant of the defenders of the land, kneeling on his bed, with his magnificent ass in the air and his strong and powerful hands tied on his back, at his mercy and will. He knows he must be grinning like a fool, but he didn’t care. After reassuring himself that Thor is as comfortable as possible in his current position, he finds a new home between his brother’s legs, kneeling there while his fingers walk a path from his lower back to his shoulder blades. When he reaches them, he follows the same path with his mouth, kissing every protuberance on the arched spine, biting the skin when his brother moans at the sensation of his hardness against his body. Those same fingers who have been caressing his back a second ago are now sliding down again until Loki is grabbing a handful of ass cheek on each hand, muttering his words on Thor’s nape, “I’m sorry, brother mine, but I don’t have the strong will to make it slow or explorative. I crave for you too much. The torture will be both-sided and I’m not resilient enough to survive it.  Just let me know if anything I do is too much and I will stop.”

 

Thor’s voice sounds muffled by the sheets but the breathed _‘yes’_ is comprehensible enough. The thunderer’s full body id on fire, burning with a craving he can’t describe and for something he didn’t know a single word about. But just the feeling of his brother’s body behind him, the roughness of his fingertips on his ass, the hotness of his breath on the nape of his neck… It is like the lightning bolt that falls on a weakened forest, igniting a fire that one knows will burn it to the very roots, and Thor is ready to jump into the flames and combust on it. 

 

Retracing his own moves, Loki kisses his way back down Thor’s spine until he is sitting on his calves, eyes focused in the desired prize in front of him. The pink hole is waiting, with a trail of dark gold hair covering the sack hanging between the legs, and the engorged cock pointing proudly to the bed, making little jumps now and then under Loki’s scrutiny. Thor is looking at him over his shoulder, forcing his neck after changing his full weight to a single shoulder, hands opening and closing behind him, itching to touch. Loki raises both hands on the side Thor can see and calls for his powers again, the green light making the paleness of his skin look ethereal, making Thor think of the beautiful water nymphs Freyja conjured the summer night they spent on Vanaheim so many years ago. But the lopsided grin breaks the spell as easily as Loki conjures his powers, a towel and a jar appearing on his open hands before the glow dissipates, the items telltale enough of the thing his brother wants to do to him. The blush that has found its way to Thor’s face since they shared the first kiss deepens at the thought of his brother doing to him what both seem to crave, his eyes pleading the way his mouth is not capable. 

 

While Thor follows his every move with greedy eyes, Loki puts down the towel beside him, the jar resting atop it. He returns his hands to his brother’s body, the remnant of the Seidr still clinging to his skin making Thor shudder at the touch, _‘Interesting’_ , he thoughts, before storing the knowledge in a corner of his mind for a later review, he has a mission ahead, one he is literally dying to fulfill. Lowering his face to Thor’s lower back, Loki plants a kiss on each dimple beside his spine, tongue darting to  taste it before moving lower, leaving a trail of kiss and soft nips on Thor’s asscheek. The delicious flavour of his skin is maddening Loki, but he needs to keep his head as cold as possible. This first time is too precious and too life changing to let his low instincts take control, as much as he wants to eat that precious hole as the grapefruits they like to enjoy every spring. That will be a task for another day, if he can make it good enough for Thor to want to come back to his sheets again… With that new purpose in the front of his mind, Loki reaches the desired hole, but instead of burying his tongue inside as he desires, he kisses it softly before moving even lower, following the trail of hair that leads to his sack. If Thor has never been with a man before, is more than probably that no one has touched him here that way either. Another check to his list of first times with his dear brother. With a chuckle at the simpleton thought, Loki flattens his tongue against the perineum area, using the rolled tip to taunt him when he slides downward. When he reaches the sack, he laps it like the sugar fruits the elves like to give the children, Thor’s sweetness rivaling with the one from his memories with every swipe of his tongue. But then the barely suppressed moans of his brother brings him back to the task at hand, and with a sly smile, Loki sucks one of the trembling balls inside his mouth, extracting a loud sound from Thor. After rolling it with his tongue, Loki lets it fall back to his original spot, teasing its twin with a soft kiss, “That’s it, brother mine. Let me know how much you enjoy my silver tongue, don’t let me guess if you like what I’m doing or not.”

 

Thor takes a deep breath to steady his words before answering Loki, his body already trembling with barely suppressed passion, “So far, so good, Loki.”

 

The God of Mischief smirks to himself again before sucking thoroughly two of his fingers until spit drips to his knuckles, “You have seen nothing yet, my dear Thor. And please, don’t stop calling me brother, even if my face is buried in your ass. It sounds so devious from your sacred lips when I’m doing this…” And so he sucks in the other ball, his wet fingers pressing in the area between the sack and the asshole, the combined spit of his previous ministrations and the one he has applied on them making the knuckles slide easily, massaging the area with enough pressure to notice the tight muscle under the skin contracting with every stroke. 

 

“Fuck, Lo-- brother!”

 

Loki hums pleased at Thor’s words, keeping his fingers working while changing the receiver of his tongue’s attention. With a lewdly sound, he lets the wet sack fall from his lips, little drops of spit sliding down the even harder cock hanging between Thor’s legs.  Seeing it, Loki has a new craving: tasting this piece of paradise as soon as possible. With some maneuvering, he slides his body lower until he is lying down, upper body resting on an elbow while his hand keeps massaging Thor’s perineum. His tongue follow the trail left by his own spit, the tip of it pursuing the wet drops sliding down, enjoying the way the engorged member twitch, sensing every heartbeat through it. He keeps going lower, using the agility their friends always used to mock him to his advantage. The mix of Thor’s scent and his flavour is making him go crazy, and he needs more of it, knowing where to find the desired nectar. His lips joins the tongue, head twisting between the legs and forcing them to open more while he captures the base of Thor’s cock with his mouth, sucking it slightly. 

 

“By the Norns, Loki! That mouth of you will be my undoing.”

 

A chuckle that reverberates in Thor’s full body through the place they are joined preludes the moment Loki moves away, “We have always know my mouth will be your undoing, brother. One way or another.” Loki goes down on the bed completely, turning on his back to face the coveted reward hanging over his face. This close he can appreciate the real size of his brother’s member, being it long enough to almost touch his face where he lays. His tongue darts outside to lap the tip, recollecting the pearly ambrosia Thor has been leaking, and Gods, how delicious it is! Loki has never enjoyed something like that, and with a greedy growl, he takes the full head inside his mouth, savouring it like a sweet. Both moan at the sensation: one for the savour and the living pulse of the shaft inside his mouth, the other for the hot and wet cave engulfing him and making him forget any lover before the one he is having right now; no one can compare to his perfect little brother. Loki raises his head from the bed, sucking him deeper and deeper, making him almost yell against the wet sheets where his drool is pooling. He is so lost on that hotness that he didn’t see or hear his brother moving until a cold and wet finger is pressed against his hole, first with a soft massage that makes him shudder, followed by a soft pressure, just enough to let the tip of it pierce him and making Thor whine.  Gods, he has never felt something like that.  He sure has done it to an adventurous maiden before, but she was so lost on his cock she hasn’t said a word about it, and now he is almost grateful for it.  Nothing someone will have said about it will have covered the sensation.  He can sense his body fighting against the intrusion at the same time his muscles contract, as if they are trying to suck the intruder deeper.  And after some long seconds of teasing, Loki does exactly that.  His finger moves out, tracing the clenching rim with a calloused fingertip before entering again, deeper this time, first to the first knuckle, then moving back and returning until he his buried almost completely inside Thor’s ass. Their moans mix, Thor’s lost in the sheet and half breathless, Loki’s muffled by the cock filling his mouth and now part of his throat. The throbbing of Thor’s cock intensifies, and Loki knows his brother is coming closer to his end, and he is not buying it, wanting to see it write on his face when it happens. With a last suck and an obscene sound, Loki lets his head fall back to the bed, freeing Thor’s cock and gaining himself a curse from the man over him. 

 

The finger on his ass leaves him too, and now Thor is utterly pissed, “Brother! Don’t be a teaser!”

 

“Don’t worry, my love.” Loki kneels again behind Thor, applying a new layer of the oil from  the jar to his fingers, the sticky liquid sliding down his wrist before he moves back to Thor’s glorious ass. Now he has a direct view of it when his finger slides inside again, and Loki growls. The silky insides welcome him like an old friend so easily… He adds another finger, and his brother takes it like a champ, whimpering and gasping while his legs tremble. “You are so tight, brother. I can not wait to be buried inside you.”

 

Thor keeps gasping for air with every twist of Loki’s wrist but he knows his brother is waiting for an answer, “And why it looks like you are enjoying delaying it?”

 

“Because I’m enjoying it.” Loki changes the angle of his hand to put pressure with his fingertips on that special place, finding it almost immediately, his long fingers reaching it without trouble. Thor has never enjoyed this level of pleasure. It spikes in him, like the thunder he commands when wielding Mjolnir, striking him from tip to toe. He moans something that resembles Loki’s name, and the trickster can’t be happier, but he wants to make his brother sing for him. With his free hand, Loki grabs Thor’s tied wrist and pulls him up, making him kneel. The fingers on his ass return to its original angle, teasing him with a different type of blissness but not enough after a  taste of the one he can be receiving. But then Loki’s hand is playing with his nipples while he nips at his shoulder, fingers moving in and out of him at high speed and making Thor’s knees go weak. The thunderer notices the smirk on Loki’s mouth against his skin when he adds a third finger with no preamble, forcing him open and making Thor’s head fall back while he moans at the ceiling. “Someday, my love, I’ll make you cum only with my fingers and my tongue. I will play with you for hours, just like that, and will drink every drop of your essence while you beg for more and less with every swipe of my tongue. And you will love every single second.”

 

Thor’s voice is broken, each word mixed with a short gasp when Loki reenters him, but the sassiness is clear on his voice, “Fandral--Always said--You are all bark and no bite, brother.”

 

“Really?” Loki bites his shoulder harder, using the knuckle of his index finger buried deep inside him to search for that secret spot again, pushing against it until his brother forgets how to breathe. “Let's see if I can make you see the wrongness of the dashing swordsman’s words, my love.” Warm preludes the soft vibration of Loki’s powers surrounding his hands, making Thor see stars behind his closed eyes. Suddenly his hands are free again and he uses them to push Loki against his back, forcing the angle in which he is penetrating him and groaning at the loss of friction when his brother stops his movements with a chuckle, “Impatient, are we?”

 

S thin layer of sweat covers Thor’s body, breathe broken with short gasps and shudders moving up and down his back every time Loki breathes on his shoulder or bites his nape, “By the Norns, Loki. Fuck me already or I will--”

 

Loki’s snort surprises Thor, but not less than the moment his brother pulls his fingers out of his ass and shoves him back to the bed. The thunderer falls with a huff and tries to turns onto his back while muttering a curse. Loki meanwhile has jumped from the bed and stands beside it with his emerald gaze focused on every move from his brother. When Thor sees him on his feet, gloriously naked, with the filtered light of the sun framing his sculpted body, his brain stop working. It has been years since he has seen Loki in his birthday suit, and Gods, the time has been good with him. Few scars mark the marbled skin, with well-defined muscles showing on his arms, legs and chest, giving him the complexion of an acrobat more than a common warrior like himself. Thor’s eyes roam over the expanse of skin in front of him, stopping briefly here and there to memorize it, until he reaches the area he seems to be dying for. Loki’s long fingers are wrapped lazily around his cock, a shiny coat of oil applied to it with slow motions of his hand. “My spoiled golden prince is back. We need to talk with your tutors, brother. It seems you still lack patience and discipline.”

 

“Maybe later I will be patient, brother.” Thor tries to put more meaning on the last world, rising a hand and beckoning Loki with it, “But right now, I need you inside me more than breathing. Will you keep me waiting?” His younger brother is about to answer him with a retort of his own when Thor sees his chance, “Please, brother.”

 

Loki’s eyes open in surprise, but the way his mouth falls open and his breath got caught on his chest signals Thor his plan has worked. With an almost feline cadence, Loki moves back to the bed, crawling over Thor and grinning when his older brother opens his legs to welcome him between them. “Next time we can take our time, then. I can’t deny you anything if you ask for it so nicely, my love.” They smile to one another with a knowing smirk, before Loki kneels more comfortably in the cage of Thor’s legs, raising one over his shoulder and pushing the other to one side to give him better access. “It can be painful, the first time. Give me a hand if you please.” Thor offers one to him and gasps in surprise when Loki wraps the fingers around his own cock, “Use this as a distraction in case you need it, will you?” With permission to relieve himself after the long torture, Thor pumps his hard member slowly, enjoying the friction of his calloused hands, helped by Loki’s spit and the precum he cannot stop producing. Loki grabs his own shaft and positions the head on Thor’s hole, the oiled skin almost cold against it. Once in position, Loki lets his upper body fall over Thor, his faces close enough to kiss but not doing it, focused instead on reading every emotion they can find in the other’s features. And then he pushes inside. Thor’s mouth falls open, jaw slack against the onslaught of sensations, while Loki grits his teeth in effort. The rim, even after fingering session, resists Loki’s advances at first, but after a few heartbeats, Thor takes a deep breath, his body relaxing enough to let the cock pierce him. And what a feeling. It is just the tip, barely an inch, but both are panting and fighting very hard to stop the moans fighting to be free. With utmost care, searching in Thor’s face for any real discomfort, Loki keeps pushing inside, slow but steady, inch by glorious inch. When the tight muscles accept it at last, Loki is almost half way inside, and Thor is touching himself slowly too, enough to distract himself. The sorcerer stops where he is, closing the distance to seal their lips in a half breathed kiss, tongues dancing midair while they share the same air and Thor’s body grows accustomed to the intrusion. Sooner than Loki expected, the hand on his brother’s cock disappear to slide to Loki’s back, pulling him closer and forcing the cock another inch more inside him, making both moan into the shared kiss.  That was the sign Loki has been waiting to push all the way inside until he is buried to the hilt.  For several moments neither of them move or breathe or even think, just letting their bodies get used to their lovemaking. Thor has never felt this pleasurable burn, and the warm spreading through his full body thinking of being one with his lovely brother. And Loki has never been wrapped by anyone that perfect. Thor is tight and hot and soft, even his sweat is intoxicating and Loki lost himself in it. “You are so perfect, my dear brother-- so tight, just for me.”

 

“Yes! Only you, my love.”

 

The conviction on Thor’s words is Loki’s undoing. The trickster kisses him again, deep and long, tongue fucking him as a prelude of what it is to come. And then he retreats his hips slightly, just to come back with a snap that makes Thor’s body arch like a bow, the sound leaving his mouth a mix of a moan and a groan. “Fuck! So perfect! My only love, my brother, my everything!”

 

“Loki! Gods--”

 

The sorcerer kiss him again, wanting to drink those delightful sounds his brother is making with every twitch of his hips. And they grow more addictive with every gulp of his brother’s moans Loki takes.  He has dreamed of being one with Thor so many times in the past, but never like this, and never, not in his wildest dreams, it has been this good and fulfilling.  Every inch of skin they have in contact is on fire, their hearts beating with the same crazy rhythm, their brains focused on the other, blocking away the rest of the world. Right here, right now, the only living being that matters is the one in their arms, the only purpose of their lives is bringing pleasure and love to the too perfect god sharing the bed. Loki’s hips keep moving at a lazy speed, the friction and pressure of his brother’s tight hole is undoing him quicker than he wants, and he will do everything in his hands to make it last, to enjoy it for a bit longer. 

 

But Thor is not buying it.  He has never felt something this good and needs to have it all.  With some effort thanks to his lust fogged mind, he forces his free leg to wrap around Loki’s hips, changing the angle of his thrusts. The brothers yell the other’s name when the new sensation reaches their brains. Loki is sheathed to the root inside Thor, his cock pressing perfectly against the spot inside the thunderer, and he clenches his ass in pleasure around the intruding member. “Loki!”

 

“Fuck, Thor! I can’t--”

 

Loki has moved to rest his head on Thor’s shoulder, panting against the sweated skin without stopping his hips for a single heartbeat. His brother has always been a fast learner, and his body is reacting to every thrust with a push of his own, meeting him midway while his nails leave a red trail of marks on Loki’s white skin. “Do it, brother. Wreck me, mark me, taint me!”

 

With a last ‘fuck’ muttered against Thor’s neck, Loki frees the leg on his shoulder to grasp Thor’s hips with both hands, angling him to his liking before beginning to piston inside him with a new purpose. The gasps and moans mixed with Loki’s name, and a set of curses the younger prince didn’t know his brother capable of, the thunderer let him know how much he is enjoying the onslaught. His legs has wrapped tightly around Loki’s hips, pushing him closer while he tries to match his hips to his brother’s movements. The pleasure is something so new for Thor than he didn’t suspect the growing heat on his lower parts mean he is about to explode. And so the orgasm take him by surprise, muscles clenching around his brother’s cock while his back arches in pleasure, a silent moan leaving his slack mouth while the hotspurs of cum land everywhere between them. Loki stops for a second, cursing in a language Thor didn’t know before moving his hips deeper than before, one, two, three times, before burying himself as deep as possible and mewling Thor’s name against his neck. The older prince feels the hot and wet fluid filling his insides and can’t repress a shudder. His brother has filled him to the brim, showing him a new side of pleasure he didn’t know about and turning him into an addict after the very first bite.

 

For several moments they just stay there, still connected, still painting, letting their hearts try to recover a steadier rhythm to no avail. Thor’s stamina makes him recover first, at least enough to move his hands to caress Loki’s head until he makes him raise it enough to look at him. His beautiful brother is blushed and sweaty, reddened lips from his kisses and the taletelling mark of his teeth on his lower lip, the trick he uses to keep his voice under control. His hair is in disarray thanks to Thor’s fingers, with the soft curls falling around his lovely face while his eyes move over his brother’s features. Thor knows he will be in the same state, the same silly smile growing on his lips, a mix of love, sated state and mischief. They stare into one another eyes for a long minute, their bodies drumming the same song between them. Thor is trying to find the perfect words to say, but his addled mind can only conjure a simple one, “Wow.”

 

A chuckle is Loki’s answer, before he lowers his face to plant a soft peck on Thor’s lips, “As literate as ever, my dear brother.” Thor smiles at him, returning the gesture and Loki nuzzles their noses before adding, “But yeah, just wow.”

 

They laugh after that, with Loki easing himself outside Thor and lying beside him, forcing him to face him and entangling their legs. Thor is still going down for the highest high he has never felt, but his heart is so full of love for the being in front of him that he can’t keep the words under control, “I love you, Loki.”

 

The sorcerer beams at him, the green of his eyes shining with the light of the setting sun filtering through the curtains, “And I adore you, my oaf of a brother.”

 

Minutes pass with them looking into the other’s eyes, hands tracing random patterns on backs and arms or cupping faces while the dreamy smile never left their lips. After what looked like an eternity, Thor’s fingers find the mark he has put on Loki’s neck on that distant lake, “I think I need to advise you, my dear brother. I might have the need to gift one of my horses to Fandral as he has been begging for years, but if he touches you again, nothing on this world or another will keep his hands attached to his body.”

 

“Possessive, huh? I like it. Can I ask the same of you?”

 

Thor pulls his brother closer, making their cold, wet and stained chests to press, “My lovely and perfect brother. What need I will have to search for it outside your sheets when the most perfect partner on all the known realms is crazy enough to want to be my only one?”

 

Giggles and a push on Thor’s shoulder is Loki’s answer, before he hides his face on his brother’s neck, “Flattery will take you nowhere, brother mine.”

 

“Good, because there is nowhere I rather be, dear brother.”

 

Just then Thor’s treacherous stomach growls asking for the meals its owner has forgotten during all day, making both chuckle. Loki leaves his new favourite place to plant a kiss on his brother’s temple, “Maybe a part of you will rather be on the communal dinner filling to the brim with meat and bread, but don’t worry, it can be arranged.” With some effort thanks to his weak legs after the lovemaking, Loki disentangles himself from his brother and leaves the bed, fishing for a robe on his chest before walking to the door. “Get the bath ready while I order food to be brought to us. I’ll send a message to Mother to let them know we will be unavailable for the rest of the day and maybe tomorrow. We have too much to talk about after two years…” The wink Loki gives Thor before closing the door leaves the thunderer laughing on the sweat stained sheets.  Yeah, they have so much to talk, so many plans to make for the rest of their long lives.

 

With that happy thought and his wobbly legs, Thor forces himself to leave the bed and move to the bathroom. On his way there every step he takes makes him aware of the soreness of his body, the strained muscles and tired limbs, even the few drops of Loki’s essence dripping from him. It’s all new and different, but the warmth spreading from his chest is so big and so fulfilling, he knows he will want more of whatever his brother has done to him today, and with any luck, he will bring the same sensation to the other half of his soul.


End file.
